


Back To School At NDU

by Sylphidine_Gallimaufry



Series: Tales of Nightmare Dork University [11]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Nightmare Dork University - Fandom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cossimo [Coz] Pitchiner, F/M, Insight, M/M, Multi, NDU Metaverse, Nightmare Dork University (Fanverse), Nightmare Kings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pitch Black Fashion Doctor, Pitch's Wardrobe, Rating May Change, Symbolism, Wardrobeverse, strange fruit from a twisted tree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 22:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry/pseuds/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry
Summary: Seven stories, based on prompts for the September 2019 Nightmare Dork University event on Tumblr. Ratings, characters, and pairings will vary from chapter to chapter. Each chapter is a stand-alone work and may be expanded upon and / or integrated into other stories of mine.





	1. Buttoned Up

_ ** Back To School At NDU, Day 1 - Getting to Know You ** _

_**Rating**_: Teen, I guess. Mention of sexytimes, but no real action.

**_Fandom_**: Nightmare Dork University [ a Rise of the Guardians AU]

**_Pairing[s]_**: Nightmare Galleon 

**_Characters_**: Pitch Black, Coz [Cossimo] Pitchiner

**_Author’s Note_**: Loosely inspired by scenes in the book [A GENTLEMAN NEVER KEEPS SCORE](https://catsebastian.com/a-gentleman-never-keeps-score/) by Cat Sebastian. I may do a more faithful tribute/pastiche [as in, actually set in the Regency period rather than this modern setting] at some point in the future. Also owes quite a bit of inspiration to<strike> this ass</strike>... I mean, this ASK from [@nightmare-jockstrap](https://tmblr.co/m_66mDL8hpneNTfA8HkHRlg).

<https://nightmare-jockstrap.tumblr.com/post/52749526100/you-mean-this-ass#notes>

_____________

_Better late than never_, Pitchiner muttered to himself.

Two years into... whatever this was between him and Pitch, and Pitchiner was only just figuring out _now_ that he should pay attention to the number of buttons on Pitch’s vests on a given day. If he’d done it earlier, he’d have saved himself a boatload of _agita_ and nights of frustration.

Oh, it’s not that he hadn’t NOTICED Pitch’s vests at all. Hard not to, when there were so many different ones hanging up in Coz’s own closet, as an overflow from that monstrosity that Pitch called a wardrobe and that Coz’s mother would have called an _armoire_, or somesuch.

And hard not to notice how GOOD his stringbean of a bedmate looked in all of them. Those vests hugged Pitch’s narrow waist just so; they were long enough that not a hint of dress shirt showed above his beltloops, their satin backs creating one smooth line above that absolutely perfect little ass, the points at their hems acting like arrows to those sharply-jutting hipbones that Coz loved to...

He laughed to himself at the inevitable pun that came to mind about having a “vested interest” in getting Pitch **_out_** of his clothes.

But now, two weeks into the fall semester, carrying his own laundry bag over one shoulder and Pitch’s dry cleaning in his other hand, Pitchiner was starting to recognize some of Pitch’s individual vests, and was getting a clue that they were never randomly chosen.

There were the straightforward ones, with buttons running in a straight line down the front,; Pitch would make sure that the bottom-most button was unbuttoned at all times. Those were worn with what Pitchiner thought of as dress shirts... collars with points and cuffs that had been ironed, but likely to have an open neck and the sleeves pushed up. Those got the most wear, and seemed to be a good indicator of Pitch’s emotional “middle ground”.

Then there were the vests that were like the ones that Pitchiner’s grandfather would wear with a three-piece suit for any family event like a wedding or a christening.They were double-breasted, with left and right rows of buttons; the vests had their own lapels, and the cut seemed to go higher towards the neck. Pitch wore these with his tighter turtlenecks, and they seemed to only come out when Pitch was upset.

The last kind hardly ever made an appearance, but those made a hell of an impression.They were buttoned very nearly at Pitch’s waist, showing off the whole of Pitch’s chest, and were worn over looser turtlenecks.

It struck Coz like a bolt of lightning that the last time Pitch had voluntarily initiated sexytimes, Pitch had been wearing that lowcut style of vest. At the time, Coz was mostly concentrating on freeing them both from clothing, and looking forward to leaving love bites all over Pitch’s body.

The lowcut vest was an “easy access” one, precisely because it had fewer buttons.

And all of Pitch’s vests had more buttons apiece than seemed the norm. One of the double-breasted ones had _**EIGHTEEN BUTTONS**_. 

There had to be some significance to all those buttons. 

Maybe they were a kind of armor against the world? 

Pitchiner put the dry cleaning bag. loaded with four of Pitch’s most button-bedecked and choking-collared vests, in his closet next to his letter jacket, with reverence and a better understanding of what made his flatmate tick.


	2. We All Bleed

Back To School At NDU, Day 2 - Kindred Spirits

**_Rating_**: Teen-ish, possible dubcon if one reads between the lines

**_Fandom_**: Nightmare Dork University [ a Rise of the Guardians AU]

**_Pairing[s_**]: North / Tooth, Pyotr / Frost [implied - present], North / Pyotr (implied - past)

**_Characters_**: Pyotr Pitchiner, Nikolai Severnaya [NDU North], Tatleen Tushir [NDU Tooth], Mr. M. Sanderson [NDU Sandy], Jack Sickle

**_Author’s note_**: Initially inspired by the artwork by [@wardrobe-after-dark](https://tmblr.co/mGkBSQaWMR6g1P0ByQrw4Sw) depicting Jack Sickle in Mr. Sanderson’s art class.

<https://wardrobe-after-dark.tumblr.com/post/48117087953/headcanon-jack-likes-mr-sandersons-art-classes>

Then it went to a MUCH different place after that. More notes in the postscript.

* * *

Clay forms took shape under his fingers as Jack added spiky accents to the little figure he was moulding. 

He enjoyed the studio time in Survey in Art Therapy the most out of all his courses this semester, particularly when he got to work with the pottery wheel. He found it very relaxing, the way something so fluid could be made into something solid and beautiful.

_ <strike>not like water</strike> _

He tried to ignore how much his current creation looked like the figure from his dreams and concentrated instead on fulfilling the “self-portrait in clay” assignment. He knew he was only here in this class on sufferance, but he wanted to please Mr. Sanderson for believing in him.

* * *

Dr. Tatleen Tushir, history professor at NDU with a specialty in Eastern military methods through the ages, was cursing under her breath as she pulled into a parking space at The Ravens Gastropub. She absolutely hated being late; she preferred her life to be meticulously organized down to minutes and seconds.

Besides, it was date night.

As she approached the doors, a tall dour-looking man in a rumpled summer-weight charcoal grey suit came through them and seemed to emerge from deep thought when he saw her. He stopped, bowed his head courteously and held the door open for her. She nodded briskly back at him and caught a flash of bitter amusement in his sherry-coloured eyes as she passed him.

Tatleen could not repress a shudder. She scurried over to the bar where her husband was waiting for her.

"Guess who I just saw!"

Professor Nikolai Severnaya stood between two barstools, his bulk nearly overflowing both, one booted foot perched nonchalantly on the rail. He turned his head at her greeting and gave her that smile that was hers alone. He replied, "I am as surprised as you, my hummingbird. Let us get our table."

She noticed he did not take his untouched glass of vodka from the bar as they headed into the dining room.

Over plates of stroganov for him and wild mushroom potato pancakes for her, the two North Dale University instructors discussed the odd circumstances of a professor from rival school East Bank University seeking out one of their opposite numbers for "a favour".

* * *

It had been less than a week before students returned to campus, and most teachers already had their lists of academic advisees in their planners and ready to go once classes started and office hours were posted.

Pyotr Pitchiner, professor of Russian Literature at EBU, had ambushed Nik in his office. As the head of the Department of Arts and Music at NDU, Nik had fewer duties as advisor than his colleagues, but he took them just as seriously, and had avidly followed the careers of many of those under his care. The interdisciplinary students were among his favourites; although as a senior she no longer needed to formally meet with him, Nik had high hopes for the success of Ebony Centaurii and others in her class.

That afternoon he had been tidying files in cabinets, in his methodical hands-on manner, when there was a rapid double knock on the doorjamb. The last person Nik had expected to see standing there was Professor Pitchiner.

After an awkward exchange of pleasantries, Professor Pitchiner had taken the seat that Nik had offered, and came straight to the point. In a silky voice, he said, "You were the freshman advisor to Sickle last year, correct?"

Nik nodded slowly and replied, "Jack Sickle, yes. Shy boy, good grades. Still undeclared, needs to do so this year. You know him?"

The other man did not acknowledge the question, but forged on. "I want you to pull some strings and get him into one of Sanderson's classes."

Nik's eyebrows rose as Pitchiner continued, "Specifically the Survey in Art Therapy course."

"But that is a Senior and graduate level course!"

"I am aware."

Nik sat back in his chair and stroked his beard thoughtfully as he pondered. Finally he said, "It is not impossible… if anyone can, it would be me. And it might help propel the boy into making a decision about majoring in education."

"Then you will do it?"

"Yes, I will. But why?"

Pitchiner's nostrils flared, but then his face cleared. In a stiff manner, he stated, "Because Sickle is… important to someone who is important to me." In a softer tone, he added, "We all bleed, Nikolai."

It all became clear to Nik, and his heart gave an unwelcome wrench in his chest. So the fraternization rumours had substance. He had to say it. "Be careful, Pyotr."

The older man rose and took his leave of the younger one without a word.

* * *

Tonight Nik had been waiting for Tatleen at The Ravens when Pyotr took a stool next to where Nik stood, ordered two glasses of vodka, pushed one in front of Nikolai, and raised the other with a flourish. "To all our students… may they have it better here than you and I did in the old days." He drained the glass in one swallow, smiled wolfishly, and left.

* * *

**_Postscript 1_**: I have headcanons about the Pitchiner family that place Pyotr in the East Village in New York City in the 1980s, when he would have been in his twenties. Therefore it’s not a stretch that a bisexual Nikolai, living in the “Little Ukraine” neighborhood there, could have known Pyotr when Nikolai was a teen.

**_Postscript 2_**: Shoutout to an original character created by [@ksclaw](https://tmblr.co/m-HgCxNSQ8sEYiG26CJcwNw). I have a lot of fun with her Extra Roommate NDU tales.


End file.
